


Out of It

by daysinbetween



Category: Marrissey - Fandom, The Smiths
Genre: Drugged Johnny, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M, angie and johnny are together but it's not like, direct, it can be ignored ;), someone help him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daysinbetween/pseuds/daysinbetween
Summary: Johnny is drugged up after surgery. Morrissey visits him in hospital.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a very short little fluffy marrissey fic that i wrote bc i felt sad. i felt sad bc i had written a longer model!au but it got deleted ): i might try and work on it again soon, but for now here is this. let me know ur thoughts in the comments below, that'd be cool!

" _Moz!_ " exclaimed Johnny. He was sat in the clean and crisp hospital bed. Beside him sat Angie, tiredly blinking up at him, slumped over. She gave a small, lethargic smile at Moz as he entered the room.

  
"Mozzer! Mozzy! Mozza! Moz, Moz, Moz." Johnny giggled to himself, sitting up as the singer approached him.

  
"Hello Johnny," he said, smiling gently. Johnny's hair was disheveled and his cheeks were flushed a light pink. He stared at Moz openly, with a wide smile on his face.

  
Angie stood up. "I'm heading out to get him a drink. You want something?" she asked kindly, touching his arm.

  
"Yes, please. Whatever is fine." he replied gratefully, looking down at her. She nodded, before sending a quick glance to Johnny, who was slowly swaying back and forth where he was sat in the bed. She snorted.

  
"Alright. See you in a bit." She looked back to Moz, giggling a little. "Er. Johnny's a little drugged up. Just letting you know." She giggled and squeezed his arm.  
Angie then left the room, leaving an empty seat for Morrissey to plant himself in.

  
"Hi," Johnny mumbled, looking straight at him after he had seated himself in the vacant, uncomfortable chair beside the bed. "You have real pretty eyes."

  
Moz blanched.

  
"I'm sorry?" he replied. Johnny seemed to find this hilarious, and he laughed loudly.

  
"Don't be sorry! They're a really pretty blue colour. Like flowers. Don't you like flowers? I like your eyes." Johnny babbled.

  
"Thank you," Moz flushed pink

.  
"You're pink now. Why are you pink? Are you embarrassed?" Johnny's eyes widened. He whispered, "Did I... _offend_ you?"

  
"No, no, you didn't!" Moz let himself laugh a little. "You didn't, I'm alright." _Just a little bit overwhelmed and confused, is all._

  
"Oh, okay. Thank God." he smiled. "You have a nice laugh, too," he leaned over the side of the hospital bed, holding his chin up with a bony hand and resting on his elbow. He leaned into Moz's space.

  
"Do I?" Morrissey supposed he shouldn't be egging him on like this, but it wasn't often he received such compliments from people that weren't devoted fans of The Smiths, and if he was honest with himself, he liked hearing this from Johnny.

  
"Yes, yes, you do! It's really very pretty. I can't think of any long words to describe it right now. It's like a hug. _Warm_. Can we hug?" Johnny leaned forward further and nearly toppled over the side of the bed. Morrissey grabbed him and pulled him upwards quickly, inwardly panicking (this guy was supposed to be on bedrest!)

  
Johnny was laughing loudly, high pitched _hee-hee's_ that made Morrissey's heart warm.

  
"Oops," Johnny laughed, clutching onto the front of Moz's shirt. He gently planted the guitarist back onto the bed, until Johnny leaned back on the propped up pillow again.

  
"You okay?"

  
"Yes." Johnny's smile quickly slipped off his face, and his brow furrowed. He studied Moz intently, eyes searching.

  
"Uh," Moz licked his lips nervously. Johnny's eyes followed the movement.

  
"You're really pretty." Johnny said. Then, in what he figured was supposed to be a whisper, but quite clearly was not, he whisper-shouted "Like, _really_ pretty."

  
He continued, "That's so _unfair_. How am I supposed to do stuff when you look so pretty? I always want to touch you. Throw my guitar and just jump you."

  
Morrissey froze and his eyes widened. "Y-you..."

  
"You dance quite weirdly on stage. I'm not sure what you do, but I think it's great. You look like you don't care. And you sing really well. You're weird. But I think it's great." Johnny smiled widely.

  
"Thank you," Morrissey's stomach was doing somersaults.

  
"But I can't jump you on stage. Everyone would _see_." Johnny deflated and sighed. His voice took on a hard edge.

  
"But I want them to see. I want them to know you aren't theirs." Johnny looked up at him, his eyes were wide. "Are you mine?" He stage whispered again.

  
Morrissey was silent, staring down at him. He had a hard time not letting his mouth gape in shock. All those hidden emotions, all those nights he had spent pining after his best friend... Surely his feelings weren't returned?

  
He reminded himself that Johnny was _drugged_. He wouldn't remember this. He probably didn't even mean what he was saying, let alone understand what it was doing to him or what it meant to Moz.

  
Johnny took Moz's contemplative silence as a negative.

  
"Yes you are!" Johnny looked sad. "Aren't you? I want you to be. Whenever I see you with other people I get angry. How come _they_ get to touch you and I don't? I'm the one who made the effort to get to know you, they don't know you for real, not like _me!_ "

  
Johnny had begun to babble again, seemingly to convince Moz that he would be better for him than the 'others'. People Morrissey couldn't even name.

  
"I would treat you really good. I would write you songs. I could write about you forever, even if it's not in words, in chords, I'd do it, and I'd do it really good! Much better than _them_. Much better for you."

Johnny's brown eyes had begun to slip shut. He appeared to be exhausted.

  
"Are you tired?" Morrissey spoke.

  
"No!" Johnny made an effort to wake himself up. It didn't really work.

  
"I'm..." He trailed off. When Moz looked down at him, he had fallen asleep. Moz watched him. He looked peaceful.

  
A few minutes later, Angie returned.

  
"How is he?" she asked, sitting on another uncomfortable chair she had pulled up on the other side of the bed. She handed Moz a carton of orange juice.

  
"Sorry. They didn't have much else and I wasn't sure whether you drink dairy or not." She gave him an awkward, apologetic smile over a sleeping Johnny.

  
"That's alright. Thank you." Morrissey replied. He quickly thought of a reply to her question.

  
"He only stayed awake for a matter of seconds. He fell asleep really quickly," Moz laughed lightly.

  
"Oh, I'm sorry! He's exhausted, clearly. Otherwise he would've stayed awake, for you."

  
Moz wasn't entirely sure what the 'for you' was meant to imply, but he brushed it off. "I don't mind. As long as he recovers."

  
She looked down at Johnny and smiled warmly. "Yes," she said.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, sorry this is so short haha  
> sequel? let me know what u think, friends


End file.
